Lullaby
by Coheed
Summary: ...and so breaks loose a mad current.


Set in between The Matrix and Reloaded. A foreshadow of Revolutions. Kind of. **  
  
**  
  
**Lullaby**   
by Coheed   
  
_...and so breaks loose a mad current._  
  
-   
  
  
  
Speculation can go fuck gossip through a mattress. They are more human than heroes, more blood and bone than glory. It isn't all fluff and sweetness behind the red door with the chipping paint specks and the rusty hinges.   
  
Muffled sounds seep through the cracks in the wall, most nights. They try to be quiet as they go about their business, but she does things to him and the moans cannot be suppressed. Then there are times when they stay up late, simply talking. He tells her things that make her laugh, and to him, it is as mellifluous as flowing water, light as a feather dancing in the wind - imagery that does not exist in the real world, made real all the same by the sound of her voice.   
  
But one cannot ignore the rare occasions when they do not agree. He has yet to learn she will not sit idle in the face of danger and stubbornly objects to her joining him. A fight between them, though rare, is always intense and never about petty, trivial things; it is verbal swordplay dulled with stubbornness, to the point that each blow is blunt and all the more painful.   
  
First there is an accusation, _you don't understand, you can't just_-- but she cuts him off, _oh, can't I?!_ and so breaks loose a mad current of frustrated helplessness like stampeding wild horses or a mad dash for the exit and he paces the room with his knuckles clenched swearing under his breath and forgetting to breathe but he won't look to where she lies on their bunk watching him because he knows the minute he does he will falter under the glint in her eyes and the curve of her lips and the crook of her jaw and her soft soft skin and suddenly he has kicked off his boots and he is on the bed and his hands are on her mouth and he has her pinned to the mattress and the kisses are hard and she's the one swearing now pushing at him _get off me Neo get off me Neo get off Neo get off Neo Neo N-nn-eeo..._then she's pulling at his shirt at her pants at her shirt at his pants and everything is wet and slick and warm and sweat is dripping and legs are sliding and there is pushing and gasping as both their eyes are shut tight so he won't see reason through all the blinding clarity that she will do what she has to do and he can't stop her but he can try but he won't succeed and what is the point of being the fucking One with all his fucking One powers if he can't save her and he can't because as he lives to fight for her she lives to die fighting for him and nightmares of graves that don't exist haunt him in his sleep when they don't bury soldiers in Zion soldiers burn in Zion and he can't understand why she has to go up in smoke or crumble to dust ashes ashes we all fall down the rabbit hole for his sake for him why must it be for him he can't understand why they fought in the first place and why she is perfect and _why no longer matters none of it does because I love you I do I..._   
  
Then there is silence.   
  
The blankets are bunched up at their feet. Their clothes lie in a tangled heap on the floor. Damp strands of hair cling to her forehead and carefully, gently, he brushes them aside.   
  
It is settled. The Council has made its decision. Reports of Agent upgrades cannot be ignored. In the morning, he will enter the Matrix and confront these new entities for the first time. And she will go with him.   
  
"You had better fucking live forever, Trinity," he whispers; she dries his tears with the palm of her hand and half coaxes, half nudges him into a more comfortable position. Too tired to lift his head, he curls up against her bare chest and falls asleep. She stays awake, listening to the hum of engines levels and sublevels beneath them.   
  
It is the machine's lullaby. It is her funeral song.   
  
  
  
-   
  
**A/N:** & yes, well. I live for all things vague & abstract. Thank you for reading. I don't normally write fanfics like this (dark-ish, I mean), but the idea came to me one night and wouldn't go away. Flames are fine if you feel you must, and reviews are just as welcome.


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